When the Time is Right
by Oliva Faro
Summary: Takes place at the end of Knockdown, after Joanna Beckett's murder has been solved.  Special thanks to TracyT for editing this work and giving me the courage to publish it. I don't own Castle or its characters but I'm glad someone does!


When the Time is Right . . .

Kate Beckett sighed heavily and allowed herself to perch on the edge of the desk, facing the now blank murder board. Joanna Beckett's case file, thick with paper, was tightly clutched in her hands. She was frozen, paralyzed, as if she didn't know what her next move should be. Castle observed her from the break room windows, his heart being crushed as if in a vice at the sight of her. He'd seen that look before, she was lost, no direction. He knew that even though the case was closed she still had miles to go. The case was closed, and now after twelve years the grieving could begin and with that, the healing. He walked toward her slowly, two cups of steaming cappuccino in his hands. He placed his own cup down on her desk and reached for the "Closed" stamp she kept beside their collection of Russian nesting dolls. She looked up at him, her eyes, glistening, full of questions. Without a word, he handed her the stamp. She studied it thoughtfully then accepted it from him, her right hand lightly touching his in the exchange. She felt the warmth spread through her, spurring her on. She laid the folder on her lap and gently brushed her fingertips across the photograph of her mother. She removed the paper clip holding it in place and tucked the photo securely inside the folder. The emptiness of the cover now stared back at her and again, she allowed her fingers to brush the paper. She brought the stamp down gently and pressed, not with force but with finality. She removed the stamp to examine her work. Satisfied, she laid the stamp back down on her desk. Castle quickly filled the void in her hand with the coffee he had made. She gratefully accepted it and allowed him to slip the folder from her left hand. He placed it reverently in the "out" tray, on top of her desk and then sat beside her. He too looked at the blank murder board, just as they had done dozens of times before in the past two years. Flashes of photographs, time lines, notes, passed before him. He took a deep breath, hoping to find in it the courage his voice needed to function. "I was thinking . . ." A slight smile tugged at the corners of Beckett's lips, though she too kept her gaze fixed on the blank murder board flashes of all the moments he began a sentence with those three words passed through her mind's eye. She didn't look at him, eyes still glistening and tears threatening any moment, she knew not to avert her gaze. He cleared his throat, breathed again and said, "I was thinking, how about I take you out to eat, my treat. You need a change a scenery and a meal that doesn't come out of a cardboard container. You'll rest better later." She bit her bottom lip, willing the tears to stay back. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Actually, Castle, I don't feel like going out, I'd just like to go home." He tried to mask the disappointment he felt, "Of course, Beckett, I understand." She recovered enough from her haze to respond quickly, hope rising in her voice. "Would you mind if we just ordered some take-out instead?" Now fully understanding her message he stood from the desk and faced her, attempting to control his relief. "Take-out, great idea. I'll call it in and we can pick it up on our way. Is the usual okay?" Her response was full of gratitude that reflected in her eyes as they met his for the first time, "Yes, that's fine. Thank you." She went through the motions of putting her desk in order, collecting her things and slipping into her jacket. He held it for her with one hand while holding his phone in the other as they walked toward the elevator.

She opened the door to her apartment and let them both inside. He took the food bags to her table and placed them down while she gathered plates, utensils and napkins from the kitchen. He took two wine glasses down from the hanging rack in her dining area and opened one of the bottles he had purchased. Pouring two generous glasses for them, he set the bottle down, picked up their glasses and handed one to her. They gently clinked their glasses in a silent toast, broken by the shrill ring of her cell phone. She looked thoughtfully at the caller id and put the phone to her ear. Castle cursed to himself, ashamed for being annoyed that her boyfriend was calling. Of course he would call to see how she was. He tried to maintain his poker face but finding that almost impossible, turned his back to her instead, becoming overly interested in the label on the wine bottle. "Hi Dad," she said softly. Letting out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, he turned back to face her, suddenly the label had lost his interest. "Yes, I'm home. Yes, Dad, I have something to eat. No, I'm not, I promise, I'm telling you the truth. Castle's here. Yes, yes he is Dad. Oh? Okay, hold on." Castle's eyebrows arched in surprise as she handed her phone to him, "He'd like to talk to you." Castle swallowed hard, he suddenly felt like a teenager again, talking to his date's father for the first time, he tentatively accepted the phone from her. "Hello, Mr. Beckett," he chanced a glance at Beckett and shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, sir. I will, you have my word. You're welcome, I was glad to have been helpful. Thank you, goodnight sir. Well, okay, thank you, goodnight - Jim. Here's Beck-ate, here's Kate." Feeling suddenly queasy, he handed the phone back to Beckett as if it were a hot potato. For the first time all day, a genuine, smile crossed her lips and reached her eyes. "Daddy? Okay, I love you too. I'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight."

She placed the phone back down and watched the screen fade out, without looking at Castle she asked sheepishly, "What did he say to you?" Castle watched her for a moment, gauging his options, finally he decided to just go with it. "He wanted to thank me for taking care of you and asked me to make sure that you got some rest, and that you ate. So don't make me break my promise," he said firmly, handing her a plate. She took it from him but placed it down on the table again. Coming around to his side of the table, she stood directly in front of him, their toes almost touching. With her eyes full of emotion she looked up at him, her lips trembled as she fought back the tears once more in order to say her peace, "Thank you, Castle, I couldn't have done any of it without you…" He tried to interrupt her, to protest her last statement but she put her finger to his lips. "No, listen to me. I could not have done this without you, could not have solved my mom's murder. You kept me from getting lost, from falling into darkness. You did the thinking when my thoughts were too muddled by emotion. You brought me to the answers I was seeking." She removed her finger from his lips and he took her hand in his and kissed it. "Now you know what you do for victim's families every day, you know what closure feels like. You deserve that, Kate, you deserve much more than just that. I'm glad I could help you find it." Keeping her hand tucked inside his, she rested her palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. She wrapped her free arm around his waist, he pulled her closer to him and tucked her head beneath his chin. He realized he could stand like that for the rest of their lives if necessary. He caressed her back with his thumb, trying to erase the tension from her, she relaxed into him and took a deep breath, then slowly, gently the tears she fought back all day began to fall. He continued to hold her, afraid to alter his movements in any way. As she softly cried into his shirt her gently rocked her, speaking in soothing whispers that everything would be okay, that she would be okay.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, he didn't care. She moved first, pushing herself off his chest and freeing her hand from his grasp to wipe away her tears. She looked up at him, her eyes full of longing, dark with desire, as the tears continued to fall. She reached for his face with her hands, pulling him towards her as she lifted her face closer. He took both of her hands in one of his, kissed them again and released them. Then taking her face in his massive hands, his palms covering each of her cheeks, he used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears from her eyes. He let his fingers glide toward her ears, brushing his fingertips into her hair. He could feel his emotions stirring, his hands hot from the flush of her skin against his. He took her head in his hands, lacing his fingers in her hair. He tilted her head back, so he could drink in the beauty of her face. This time, he was the one fighting back the tears when he finally found his voice. "I want nothing more at this moment than to kiss you as if your life depended on it, to hold you in my arms and make love to you and wipe away every bad thing that's ever happened to you." A tiny gasp escaped her lips as her voice caught in her throat. "But," he continued, his voice growing stronger, "I promised your father that I would make sure that you ate, and that you got some rest. The day will come, Detective, when the time is right, that I will make love to you, over and over again, and when that happens, you won't get any rest for a very long time." He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. She shuddered, her face conveying every emotion from heartache, to passion, to need. "But now, is not the time." And with that, he lowered her head, kissed the top of it and released her. Taking a very deep but satisfying breath he turned back to the table, reached across for her plate and handed it to her. "Please, eat." She took it from him, a warm, genuine smile, seeping from her lips and eyes as she accepted the plate and silently nodded her head in agreement.


End file.
